


The Curse of the Dead Lotus

by TheGearinator



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Angst, Biological Weapons, Blood and Gore, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Apocalypse, Weapons of Mass Destruction, Zombies, possibly fluff?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 04:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5403374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGearinator/pseuds/TheGearinator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Red Lotus gave the world a warning. The world laughed, and now it's paying the price. Korra has to survive the world and aims to make her way to a bunker that her uncle owns, how will she go about it? What will she find when she gets there? And most importantly, how did things get so bad?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time to rise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> 'Sup! It's been awhile, mostly because of me really, I've had a lot to do and think about, and it's taken me a long time to sort myself out. But I'm back now, kinda, LTSC and TTaT are unfortunately on a short hiatus because I really just can't find the motivation to do anything with them at the moment, but I do really want to write, and so I'm doing something completely different from my other two stories so that once I've blitzed through this, I'll be able to jump back to LTSC and TTaT with a fresh clear mind :) 
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoy this, please leave your thoughts at the bottom! (Also, there is going to be a massive storyline hint throughout the story, there is no way anyone will be able to get it yet, but I'm curious as to if anyone will find it, and if they do, when. Good luck!)

I wake up with a sharp pain in my side. When I roll onto my sides, a groan of discomfort escapes me. I reach down to rub a soothing pressure over my sides and find a large twig stabbing me; with a grunt of frustration, I throw the offending stick out the shelter. I must have rolled onto it during the night. Either way, I still my movements, trying to listen as closely as I can to the sounds outside my shelter. The leaves and branches are covering me from the harsh morning sun. I wait, listening, for a reasonable long time, or at least what feels like a long time, and I’ve no real way to tell as is. Eventually I decide I can’t hear anything and so start the usual morning practice of getting up, stretching, starting a fire, and checking the traps for animals.

 

As I walk down to the stream I keep my eyes open and my movements slow. I’ve got one of my ice picks with me, just in case, and by the time I’ve walked the short distance from my clearing to the river bank, my stomach is beginning to vocalize it’s lack of sustenance. _It must be reasonably late if I’m already this hungry, and that said, I’m always hungry, so perhaps not._ Once I reach the river bank, I look over the traps, only two fish, and one of them is a tidler. _Great, looks like I’m gonna need to find something else to eat later as well now._ My resigned sigh almost echos across and around the forest I’m in. Once upon a time I would have found such silence almost scary, eerie, but now it’s comforting; a day without rustling, moaning, and groaning, and a night without screams is a Raava sent miracle. I think back to before all this started, a little over half a year ago, though I suppose it was technically before that, when a terrorist group known as the Red Lotus broadcasted a threat world wide. They said that they’d made a disease that would kill people and then reanimate them, under their control. They said that unless all the governments of the world dissolved themselves they would unleash this weapon and do it for them, with their own families. The world laughed, the world didn’t believe them, the idea that they could not only create something like a movie zombie plague, but also then control the reanimated corpses of the dead seemed impossible. No one listened. _And now the world is paying the price._

 

I shake my head, clearing the morbid thoughts from my mind. I wade into the middle of the river and disarm the remaining traps while also taking the two fishes that got caught, holding them in my mouth. With traps in hand, I turn and head back to my camp. As I sit down and gather some twigs and sticks from the previous night’s foraging, I begin placing them into a small pile. A small smile graces my face as I take solace in knowing that my parents, Tonraq and Senna, are safe living with my uncle, Unalaq, in his bunker at the northern tribe. It’s selfish, I know, to be happy with the way things are. So many people have died, and those that remain have lost so much, and here I am, smiling to myself with the knowledge that my parents, one of which being one of the politicians that was addressed in the Red Lotus’s message, are safe.

 

I’m now somewhere in the southern Earth Kingdom. I was at the southern air temple when this all started, and now I’m on my way, gradually, to Republic city where I hope to find some sort of transport across the ocean to my parents. I light the fire and stare into it as it grows, it doesn’t take long before it burns steady enough, so I turn back to the fish I caught, and I start to gut them both, figuring that as they’re not enough for two meals I might as well eat the both of them now. A little while later the fish are gutless and on skewers over the fire, meanwhile I’ve gone back down to the stream and I’m cleaning the blood off my hands. While blood doesn’t attract them like it would initially seem, it is proved to be quite troublesome if you do have any blood on you if you encounter any Z’s, it gets mixed with theirs or your own and it becomes almost certain that the virus will have spread to you somehow, so I keep myself clean, make sure there’s no blood on me so that when I do run into any Z’s, I can tell what blood is certainly theirs, and be extra careful to not get any on me in the first place.

 

Before all this I was my tribe’s best hunter, there were no ranks or any kind of chain of command within the hunters, but it was almost a given that what I said went, and as good as that sounds, that, coupled with my dad being the Chief, meant that I had the best equipment. I didn’t like it much initially, it wasn’t traditional, it wasn’t our culture, but now I’m really liking my high powered future industries compound bow and survival kit. I’ve got twenty seven steel arrows for use with the bow and they're really effective against Z’s, as well as the survival kit which came with two ice axes that are extremely efficient at close range melee combat, as well as numerous different types of rope, medical supplies and other necessities for survival. As much as I hated it before, I owe my life to this bow and kit, and the other hunters found out the hard way.

 

With my hands clean I get back to the camp and sit next to the fire, waiting for the fish to cook properly. As I sit down turning the fish over on the fire, I hear a rustle to my two o'clock, and immediately, my instincts react. Quickly, I reach for my bow at my side and grab the quiver next to it. I stand and turn to face the noise as I draw the sixty pound string and notch an arrow. My eyes are wide and scanning, my breathing is shallow and quiet, I can’t see anything in this direction, the vegetation is too thick. I put my weight on my back leg and crouch, pushing my left leg forward. My bow is steady and my aim isn’t waivering. I hold my breath, the loudest noise now is my heartbeat, I hear it in my ears as my eyes scan for the source of the earlier rustling. The rustling didn’t sound normal. Seconds tick by, but still, there is only silence. I stand again, not dropping my aim and take slow steps towards the shrubs. As I get closer I begin to smell rotting flesh and my stomach drops. I thought I was in the clear. I reach the bush and lower my aim and press my face against it, through the bushes I can make out a Z on it’s knees hacking into a corpse of a fox antelope. I let out a shaky breath and push through the bush slowly, excruciatingly so, and eventually I’m in the bush completely. I crouch again and raise my bow, aimed right on its head, the unguarded Z, I track it as it raises and lowers every time it scoops more flesh into its blood soaked jaws. I draw in a deep breath and hold it, steeling my nerves, I let the breath out in a short loud whistle, the Z’s head snaps up and looks directly at me, and I release the arrow. It flies, and no more than second passes before a foot of steel is buried into the Z’s head and it’s jaw and limbs go slack as it collapses back on itself. I drop my bow and give myself a small pat on the back, that was the most efficient kill I’ve done, it didn’t even get to scream out this time.

 

I stay in the bush and look around, I can’t see any more from this position, and I quickly decide that it’s all clear and that this one was just a lone one. I turn back and go back over to the fish. I take it off and put it on a large leaf I had found late yesterday. With that done and cooling slightly, I go back and investigate the Z. The closer I get the worse the smell becomes and as I crouch down next to it, it takes quite a lot to not throw up the empty contents of my stomach. I pull a leaf of a nearby crawler plant and wrap it around my left hand, and I then grip the arrow with my right and put the wrapped hand on the Z’s decayed face, using a push pull motion I pull the arrow right out of it’s head, gently and slowly, so that I don’t accidentally splash some if it’s infected blood anywhere. With the arrow removed, I place it on the ground next to me before I then pat down the Z with my wrapped hand, gently patting all the pockets on the blood soaked clothes, I get down the Z’s hip where I find pistol, and carefully, I pull the shirt covering it up before removing it from it’s holster. I smirk; it’s a nice model, powerful, a .44 Magnum, meaning it’s also quite large for a pistol. I decide that it would probably be best if I took the holster, too, and I continue to rummage around the waist for the catch and when I find it, I pop it open with a deft hand. I draw it away and sure enough it’s coated in blood, albeit less than the cloths covering it, but still some blood. I put the magnum back in the holster and note that there are little pockets along the belt of the holster for ammo, a quick pat of each of them reveals that four of six are full and that each one has six rounds in it, meaning I now have six full reloads of my new gun. I don’t think I’ll use it much, it’s loud and will just draw more Z’s to me, but it’s peace of mind nonetheless. I take the belt and arrow in my wrapped hand and bring them all down to the river and after a quick but rough clean, as best I could with strong currents and clean water, the worst of the fresh blood is off the belt, the dried will need a more thorough clean at some point, the arrow is clean however so that's a good thing.

 

Despite the fact that I more or less just looted a corpse of what once was a person, I feel happy. I’ve now got a gun and ammo, as well as all my equipment that I had before, this was quite fortunate all things considered. I walk back and sit down next to the fire again and pick up the fish, that’s now unfortunately only lukewarm, but still edible, anyway. I dig in and I’m still not used to the particularly earthy taste of the fish in the Earth Kingdom, but still, it could be worse so I’m not complaining. My initial plan was to pack up today and move out again, yet more tecking to RC, but seen as I don’t have any more food, I make the decision to stay put for today. I lean back against a tree and just sit there, waiting as time passes, conserving energy. The wind blows strongly and the smell of decay hits my nose again and my hairs stand on end, I would be panicking if I didn’t know that it was just the smell of the Z I killed earlier being picked up on the wind.

 

As time passes by, I have ‘Business’ to take care of so I walk away from the shelter and down to the river. I wade across to the other side and take down my trousers near a large bush, and a short while later after business is concluded and the respective areas are wiped as best I can with some leaf, I head back down to the river to get a more thorough clean. No one likes a shitty arse after all. Once I’m as clean as strong currents, clean water and plants can get me I get back out the water and put my sodden trousers on again. I walk back to the camp and it looks as if night is coming. _Best get some kind of meal in me then,_ I think to myself as I near the camp. I grab one of the ice picks and the bow. Once I’ve secured the pick to my thigh and bow across my back, along with it’s quiver, I set directly east at a slow pace keeping my eyes sharp and scanning the forest around me. I know from my studies that this area is home to many animals, the most common of them all being the fire ferret; it’s a small animal, a lot of people had them as pets before the plague spread, now, they're more likely to be my dinner over any pet of mine.

 

A few more minutes and I already spy a fire ferret. just ahead It’s hunched over something, presumably a bush of some kind. I reach around my back to get my bow before I notice something shiny around Dinner’s neck, I squint my eyes trying to get a better look. It’s fruitless, I can’t see what it is, so I slowly draw my bow, but as I get it around to my front, Dinner pushes back on it’s haunches and staggers back, almost as if drunk, staggering around for a short while before collapsing on the ground. I shake my head to it. I’m seriously confused. I slowly walk up to it, close enough to recognise the plant that it was trying to eat. It’s poisonous, and this then piques the question, why was it trying to eat poisonous berries? It should know what is and isn’t safe to eat. When I draw closer to Dinner, I then realise why. The shiny thing around it’s neck is a collar, with a name tag, the poor animal probably didn’t know it was poisonous. I lean down and pick the small animal up, and out of curiosity I check it’s name tag. ‘Name: Pabu - Owner: Bolin’. _Well, sorry Bolin, but Pabu’s new name is Dinner, and it’s his time to shine._

 

I take Pa- Dinner and head back to camp. I run through the same routine with the fish, except that it isn’t as slimy this time, and a short while later, Dinner is resting on a makeshift spit. I lay back against the same tree and look up; the stars become visible, they still continue to shimmer brightly after the plague and I shiver at the thought of how insignificant the huge, huge mess this world has become. Despite everything that’s happened and is going on, I’m still in awe at their beauty, the way the tree canopies sway slightly and the smoke of my small fire spirals up and out, it all paves way for the shining of billions of faraway stars, billions of potential planets, and trillions of potential life forms, despite everything that’s wrong with our world, I still find the stars beautiful, that can never change, they will always be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.

 

Not too long later, Dinner is done and I take him off the fire and eat it, and after a couple of small fish for breakfast, Dinner has never tasted so good. It doesn’t take me long to polish him off completely and now it’s a simple wait until Dinner’s gone down. Once it does, I walk back down to the river and set the traps once more. When I get back to camp I crawl back into my shelter and sleep the night away again. _Hopefully tomorrow will be better._

 

 


	2. On the move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Hope you like this new chapter! Also, I've decided to dedicate/gift this fic to a close and special friend, OfficialKorra, so here! TAKE IT! (Hope you like it :D)

It’s a tedious task taking down my shelter, I’ve wasted a good few hours it feels like doing this, but I figure it must be done. I woke this morning, thankfully twig free, and mostly went about things the same as yesterday, except there were four fishes in the traps, and two of them were large enough to class as a meal on their own, so now they're wrapped in leaves, sitting on the floor next to me, the smaller ones are already in my stomach. The shelter is proving to be much harder to take down than it was to put up, unfortunately. And so here I am, wasting precious daylight, cursing under my breath at every move that doesn’t go my way. That said, it’s over three quarters of the way dismantled so all things good, I should be on the move in not too long.

 

In reality, all I really need is all the cables and rope that I’ve used to tie it up. I’m leaving the wood here of course, but these cables, I need these cables. I’m not sure what for, but I always prepare for the worst and hope for the best, meaning if I can take a long length of half inch thick steel cable, I will. I’m not sure what I need it for, but I need it for something, because if I don’t take it, fate will laugh at me when I need it and don’t have it. Call me superstitious, but I’m not tempting fate like that.

 

A short while later and the rest of the shelter is down, the logs and leaves lying redundant on the clearing floor, I’m hunched over my bergan as I coil the wire and ropes around a large flask in the centre of it. Once all the cables and wires are coiled round and cabled tied securely, I pack the fish in there as well, and I then put the Magnum holster around my waist and the Magnum in it. I stand and quickly stretch before reaching down and strapping the two ice picks to my thighs. Putting the bow on the easy latch break on the side of my bergan, I attach the quiver to the other side of the bergan, and now, I’m ready to move.

 

I sling the bergan over my shoulders and clip the belt of it around my midsection to spread the weight of it around. I fish the compass out of my cargo pockets and try to level it as best I can. It eventually points somewhat consistently north, so I head west. I need to make it to the shore, from there I can follow it all the way around the coast to Republic City. I sigh to myself; my plan is pathetic. To head to ground zero and try and find a boat or craft of some kind, so that I can get to the north. It’s almost as ridiculous as this whole situation as it is, there were over 50 million people in the capital of the United Republics, and now, now I’d be lucky to find a single person still sane.

 

See, that’s what happens, if you don’t get eaten, you survive. And if you survive, then you’re either alone, or in a group. In a group you’d be better off in the countryside, and if you're alone, the moans, groans and screams of the night can easily take their toll on your psych. I know I’m not the same person I was before this started, that’s for certain, but I’m used to being alone so that isn’t too bad for me, but this has changed me. Before all this, I’d never even threatened to kill someone else, it wasn’t right. Now, though? Now I would threaten to kill someone if I needed to, and if it was required, I’d follow through with it as well.

 

And I have followed through with it.

 

\--- 2 Months ago ---

 

He was a middle aged man, blurry eyed, looks almost blind, we’ve been traveling together for a couple of weeks. His name’s Terry. We travelled through a small village before we got jumped by a small group of Zs. They ran at us, and we stood our ground, I with my bow and Terry with his Katana, but it got a little too much and we had to pull back. As we are doing so, Terry took one of their heads off. The blood squirted from it’s carotid artery, I saw this from my peripherals, and I also saw Terry choke and cough up some blood. It takes about an hour to turn once infected, and so once we survived the onslaught, I confronted him. He swore it wasn’t infected blood, he begged me that it wasn’t. I told him he could either lock himself in one of the buildings we’ve passed, or I’ll kill him. I knew he’s infected, and he does as well. The fear in his eyes were extremely visible as well as his desperation. But still, he begged me not to, he said he wasn’t infected, and that I couldn’t leave him, that he wouldn’t survive on his own. I gave him one last chance, but he didn’t take it. As he closed his eyes and falls to his knees, as if to beg to me like that, I took the ice pick from my hip, and before he could even look up at me, the first 4 inches of steel were already deep in his head.

 

A quick flick of my wrist and the pick came out again. I wiped it on his shoulder as his body slumped down at my feet, a couple of tears well in my eyes as I slowly backed away. I wiped them with my sleeve as I watched his body collapse to the left, limp and lifeless. Blood poured out of the hole in his head and my hands were shaking a little as his clouded eyes looked straight ahead, into nothing, dead and lifeless. I shook my head, turned and ran out the village.

 

\--- Present time ---

 

Remembering Terry brings some fresh tears to my eyes as I wade through the dense foliage. We weren’t close by any stretch, but he was a friend. And the only living, sane, person I’ve come across since I left the southern air temple. I’ve been telling myself that it was for his own good, that no one deserves to be turned into a Z, that it was for my own good that he wouldn’t turn and risk infecting me, that it was for anyone that might have encountered him should he have turned. But for over a week after I killed him, more and more doubts and questions clouded my mind.

 

_What if he wasn’t infected? What he was telling the truth? What if I was wrong and I just killed my friend for no reason?_

 

These thoughts still cloud my mind whenever I think back to him, and each time they get more and more, I’ve taken to trying not to think about him. And not only is it effective, but also surprisingly easy, you’d think with lots of time to yourself that your mind would wander, but living in a post apocalyptic hell hole tends gives you a lot to think about. Like, what I’m going to do for food, or water, how I’m going to travel, when I should start looking for a place to camp, if I can hear any Z’s. There’s a lot to think about, and while all of it is out of a grim necessity, all of it keeps my mind occupied and away from it’s darkening self.

 

What feels like a couple of hours, but can’t have been seen as the sun still isn’t at it’s highest point yet, I start to smell salty sea breeze. It’s the smell of home, it’s comforting. Like the waves that make them, and I let the smell roll over me. It gives me life, it spurs me on. There’s a particularly thick patch of vegetation ahead. I stop and have to contemplate my next move. There’s no way that I can push my way through that, and an ice pick isn’t the best tool for hacking away at trees and thick bush branches. So I either have to somehow go over it, or around it. Around it is the most sensible option, but the smell of home is enticing, and empowering. I look to the tree canopy, it’s thick, really thick. If I could get an pick over that, the branches would easily hold me and my, relatively, lightweight bergan. The problem comes when I have to get the pick up there, and how I’d then get back down on the other side, and how far back this vegetation actually goes for that matter.

 

I shrug the bergan off my shoulders and turn back around to it as it’s the floor with a surprisingly loud *thud*. I open it and take the flask out. Before I take the rope off, I open the cap and take a big swig off the stream water that I collected. It was fresh water stream, and I collected this water from further up from where I did my cleaning and business, so I’m fairly confident that it’s clean. That, and I also boiled it for peace of mind. I screw the cap back on and lean wipe the sweat from my brow with the hem of my shirt. This is a thick rain forest I’m in, I’m sweating more than I’m drinking at the moment, another reason why I’ve got to get out sooner rather than later.

 

I take a pick from my hip and make the decision that the normal rope will be good enough. I tie a strong knot with the rope through the holes at the hilt of the pick, once I’m confident that the knot will hold, I unravel the rest of the rope from the flask and I turn back to the tree that I was looking at before. I take a couple of test throws, the canopy looks to be about twenty five to thirty metres high, and if I throw the pick with everything I’ve got I can get it close, but not close enough to be able to hook over it. I groan to myself as I look around the surrounding area. It takes me a short while but I eventually see a large fallen tree. I walk the short distance to it and pull my bergan with me. Once there, I climb the the tree which seems to be about a metre and a half in diameter, it’s a big bloody tree. Or my estimates are horribly inaccurate, either is possible.

 

As I stand and get my balance, I now have to look around for a tree that’s the same as the other one, but closer. It’s almost instant, there is a tree, almost as big as the one I’m standing on, not too far away from where I am. This is the one I’m going to get. Again, I take some test throws, and this time I know I can do it, it will just take a little more effort, and possibly a jump from this log.

 

Two really hard throws later and my frustration starts to settle in, so I stop for a second. I lower my stance to ‘low horse riding’ as it’s called, I put both my hands to my thighs and then slowly bring them up my body, at the same time I take in a massive, long breath. As my hands reach my chest, I slowly push them outwards, towards the sea, again I slowly release the calming breath in time with my hands, my palms are facing out and I end up repeating this motion a couple more times before I feel calmer. I then pick up the pick again, I look towards the tree, suck in a quick breath and jump as high as I can and swing the pick around, and release it. I continue falling, I hit the ground and roll forward, a pain in my shoulder reverberates across my body from my hard landing. I stand to stretch and rub my sore shoulder, and as I look around, I expect to see the pick lying on the floor somewhere close to me, but it isn’t. I quickly snap my head up, and there it is, hooked over the tree branch, tied around it twice.

 

A massive grin spreads across my face as I take it in. I spin around and pick up my bergan. I close it after placing the flask back in it. I put it on my back, and tie the straps to me, securing it to me. I then walk to the dangling rope and take a strong tug on it, the branch doesn’t even move, so I wrap the rope around my left hand, and put the bottom of it through my thighs. I squeeze it hard as I then grip the more of the rope above me head with both my hands. I pull, using all my upper body strength, and I’ll admit, if it wasn’t for living in the south, where there is hardly any technology, I would probably be too weak to do this right now. As it is, I’m still struggling to pull myself along with my bergan up the rope, I’m trying to use my thighs to help me, but in all honesty, it isn’t doing much.

 

I eventually make it to the branch, after a good while of grunts and groans on my behalf. I pull myself up to it and I throw my leg over it, I’m now laying on this branch like a piece of cloth on a washing line. My breathing is deep and shallow as I struggle to get my breath back from the exertion of climbing up to this height. I reach forward with my arm and gently remove my pick from it’s place now in inch into the branch. I look around and it looks almost like a wall of vegetation, it doesn’t go back very far at all, no more than a couple of feet at the most.

 

I contemplate my options from here. I settle on throwing my bergan down. After removing the bow and quiver, I’ll then shuffle along the branch I’m on and lean across to the next tree and then simply climb down that one and go from there. And that’s what I do, I throw my bergan down, and in no time at all...*thud* it’s down. I put the bow across my back and the same with the quiver. The pick is now fastened to my thigh again, and I start shuffling across the branch. I get to within arms reach of the next branch, and this is where my confidence wavers, the branch I’m about to go to is quite noticeably thinner than the one I’m on. I take a deep breath. _I can’t go back now, my bergan is down there, I’ve got to go this way whether I like it or not._

 

I reach across to it and my arm shakes. I cling onto the larger branch, my hand makes contact and I grip the thinner one with all the strength my hand can give it, and I then squeeze the branch my legs are wrapped around with my thighs as tight as I can. I take my right hand and reach across with that one as well. With both hands now gripping the thinner branch I slowly let my thighs loosen and my lower half gradually lowers, and then I let go completely with my legs and I swing under the branch and grit my teeth as it groans with exertion at holding me up. I look to the tree and it’s begging to break, my heart races, this could be the end. I move my arm right and grip the branch,  my left hand follows suit and I’m moving closer to the tree, the branch creaks with the strain as I swing closer. I’m almost there, I can almost reach it, I stretch my arm out and I’m about to grip it!

 

And *SNAP*... the branch doesn’t make it, it’s falling down. I look up, as the tree canopy flies away from me, my right arm still extended, gripping at nothing, leaves and thin twigs whip at my back, lacerating it as I fall. My mum and dad’s faces flow in vision as I continue to fall. I hit larger branches as I get closer to the ground and my shirt catches on one, I flip around, the ground is right there, my shirt doesn’t rip yet, it holds my chest up for a second, my legs take over the race and then my shirt rips. I continue the short fast decent and the searing pain swelling over my back from the stinging lacerations of the branches is nothing compared to pain that spikes up my leg as my left foot smashes onto the floor. I shout out and fall to the floor. The world going black as I my head snaps to the left and hits the ground.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, a massive thanks to [Taepugs (her tumblr)](http://taepugs.tumblr.com/) / [Wallflowerr (her AO3)](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallflowerr/pseuds/Wallflowerr) for the awesome beta-ing that she does! Also, thank you to [falselordzalzabar](http://falselordzalzabar.tumblr.com/) for help with the title!
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr if you like my stuff and want updates, or if you like Korrasami, or if you just want to XD - [My Tumblr](http://thegearinator.tumblr.com/)


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